


even the silence

by prydon



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Almost all my fic are 5/4/3 +1 fic I just don't call them that, Four times Juno and Nureyev misunderstood each other and one time they actually TALKED, Misunderstandings, Other, POV Alternating, sort of angst with a happy ending, this one is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-20
Updated: 2020-09-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26561113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prydon/pseuds/prydon
Summary: “What?!” Juno exclaims. “Of course we’re not mad at each other!”Nureyev appreciates how aggressively he insists it, but he doesn’t know that he’s as sure. He knows he isn’t angry with Juno, of course, but is Juno really not angry with him?Juno must notice the grimace on his face, because he pauses and says, “…Ransom, are you mad at me?”“I don’t know, Juno. Are /you/ mad at /me/?”
Relationships: Peter Nureyev/Juno Steel
Comments: 25
Kudos: 194





	even the silence

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly one of my favorite tropes in Jupeter fics is misunderstandings, mostly because I think it's inevitable that they'll happen between people with differing hang ups/traumas and one of the hardest things in a relationship (from my experience) is learning to recognize when a misunderstanding might be happening and to COMMUNICATE about it instead of jumping to conclusions, goddammit.
> 
> So that's what this fic is: a whole lot of misunderstandings and then a whole lot of communication lol. Sorry if I make you want to throw things at Juno and Nureyev for the first 60% of the fic and yell "JUST TALK TO EACH OTHER", I promise they do eventually!!!
> 
> Title is from a Franz Kafka quote: "You misinterpret everything, even the silence."
> 
> CWs:  
> \- Reference to past domestic abuse  
> \- Very non-explicit talking about sex/depiction of the very beginnings of sex. They never actually have it in this fic, they just almost do.  
> \- LOTS of self-worth struggles and negative self talk  
> \- Swearing

By the time that Juno emerges from his room and comes into the kitchen for breakfast, Nureyev has already come dangerously close to calling his comms three times.

He doesn’t want to seem needy or overbearing, but he can’t help being nervous. Juno always sleeps much later than he does, but not usually this late, and Nureyev was starting to wonder if he might be sick.

“Ah, there you are,” Nureyev says when he finally appears and wanders over to the coffee maker. “Good morning, love.”

Juno only grunts in response. He’s still dressed in the oversized t-shirt, sweats, and silk cap he wears to bed, and his eyes are only half open.

“Jet left your share of breakfast in the refrigerator for you.”

“Mm.”

“Are you feeling all right, Juno?”

“Just tired.” Juno finishes pouring his cup of coffee and starts to head out of the kitchen, ignoring the leftovers in the fridge. Nureyev rises before he can leave and slinks over to him, wrapping his arms around his middle.

“I know what will make you feel better,” he says into Juno’s ear. “I booked lunch at that little place with the garden that you noticed yesterday. I thought it’d be a lovely way to spend our day off while we’re still planet side.”

He knows by now that Juno doesn’t particularly like expensive outings, but the café had seemed quiet and homey enough to be to his taste, and he’d commented fondly when they walked by that the smell wafting through its doors reminded him of a bakery he’d loved in Oldtown. As soon as Nureyev heard that, he surreptitiously reserved a table for two, and he’s been waiting on pins and needles to spring the surprise on Juno ever since.

Juno’s face doesn’t light up in delighted surprise like he’d imagined, though. Instead, he grimaces. “Not today, Nureyev.”

All of Nureyev’s excitement evaporates instantly. “But…Juno, today is the only chance we have. We leave here tomorrow morning.”

“Look, I’m not going, okay?”

Nureyev’s heart is suddenly struck through with worry. Did he miscalculate? He’d thought that the nostalgia the café had made Juno feel was the positive sort, but he knows the lady’s relationship to his childhood and to Oldtown is complicated. Perhaps going somewhere that reminds him of it would only bring bad memories to the surface. “We don’t have to go there. I’ll cancel the booking, and we can simply take a walk together in the park, or-”

“I don’t want to go out,” Juno says roughly, cutting him off. “I’m going back to my room.”

“Ah, yes. A day in would be nice, as well.” Nureyev was looking forward to exploring the sights with Juno while the others were away taking care of business, but any time they can spend together is time well spent, no matter where they are. He moves to follow Juno, but then-

“I am going back to my room _alone,”_ Juno specifies.

Nureyev stops short. “Oh.”

He tries not to feel hurt. Juno doesn’t look angry with him, just tired and frustrated, but he can’t help but feel like he’s done something wrong anyway.

Juno must sense his worry, because he gently squeezes his hand and gives him a weak smile. “Just one of those days, okay? I’ll see you later.”

Nureyev swallows. “Very well. Tell me if you need anything.”

“Of course.”

Nureyev watches the ex-detective disappear into his room, feeling meek and useless. Something is clearly wrong. Why can’t he figure out what it is? Why can’t he help? Shouldn’t he be able to fix this? Does Juno even want him to fix it, or does he just not want to be around him?

He tries to convince himself that Juno just needs some space for a bit. He tries not to dwell on it. This is very hard to do, however, when he and Juno are the only ones on the ship and there is nothing to do _except_ dwell.

After an hour of doing so he sends Juno a message on his comms, and when it gets no reply he becomes even more worried. Is Juno intentionally ignoring him, or is he in such a poor state that he’s not even registering his comms notifications? Nureyev isn’t sure which option would be more upsetting at this point.

In the end, he gives up and stalks over to Juno’s door. He knocks on it lightly. “Juno?”

There’s a long moment before Juno replies, sounding irritated. “What?”

“Can’t you just…talk to me? Tell me what’s wrong?”

“No, Nureyev. I just want to be alone, all right? Can’t you let it go?”

 _I can’t let it go. I need to know what’s happening so I can help you. I need to know why you don’t want me to be with you. I need to know you’re not mad at me._ He swallows those thoughts. “I just want to understand.”

“There’s nothing _to_ understand! I feel like shit, all right? Just leave me alone!”

“That’s exactly why I don’t want to leave you alone! I want to help!” Nureyev’s hands start to shake as he stares at the locked door. This situation feels all too familiar. Juno had insisted that he wasn’t the same lady he’d been back then, when he’d locked himself inside that room and then walked away from a different one. Had that been a lie?

“You _can’t_ help me!”

The words pierce Nureyev like ice. Even after so much time and effort, he still isn’t able to be what Juno needs.

“Very well,” he says, quietly enough that he’s not certain Juno can even hear him through the door.

He spends the rest of the day holed up in his own room, reorganizing his belongings just so that he has something to do. When the others get back around dinner time, Juno still hasn’t come out. He reports to Rita what happened.

She nods sagely. “Mm. Mistah Steel gets like that sometimes. I don’t think he’ll wanna join us for dinner, then, but he oughta get some food in him. Don’t worry, I’ll bring him a plate.”

She loads one for him and one for herself, and then disappears from the dinner table. Nureyev watches from afar as she goes up to his door. He watches as she knocks on the door, as Juno opens it, and as he…lets her in without complaint.

Nureyev feels his heart twist into a knot in his chest. Juno had said he’d wanted to be alone, but then he’d let Rita in. He hadn’t really wanted to be alone. He just hadn’t wanted to be with Nureyev.

“Darling? You haven’t touched your dinner.”

Buddy’s voice cuts through his thoughts, her tone gentle, as though he’s a child that needs coaxing. He sticks a fork into his food gloomily.

How does Juno Steel always manage to make him feel like this?

Nureyev has spent years crafting himself into the person he is today: someone confident and self-assured, to whom others’ opinions mean nothing. It doesn’t come to him naturally, being that way, but he has fought hard to become it in spite of that fact.

Now, though, with Juno, every perceived rejection or infraction feels like a knife to the stomach. He’d died once, waking up alone in that hotel room, and now he dies a thousand smaller deaths every time Juno rejects an offer to spend time together or seems at all annoyed by something Nureyev says or does. It’s infuriating, being that fragile, but he can’t help it. Juno has ripped off so much of his armor and filed away so many of his sharp angles just by existing.

The next day is better. Juno thanks Nureyev for making the reservation at the café, and expresses regret that they weren’t able to go. They spend the whole day in each other’s company and Juno seems grateful for his presence, not bothered by it.

The knot in Nureyev’s chest remains, however. He’s haunted by his inability to understand what happened, and why Juno wanted to see Rita but not him. He wants to ask, but bites his tongue. Juno had seemed so frustrated with his questions yesterday, and the last thing he wants is a repeat of that. He keeps quiet and tries to just enjoy their time together without his thoughts getting in the way.

Eventually the worries fade from the front of his mind to the back, but they still linger there, like every wound he has given or been given in his life.

They’ve been taking things slowly when it comes to physical affection.

It wasn’t until a week after Juno’s apology that they even kissed. They’d both wanted to, and both knew that the other wanted to, but they’d forced themselves to resist. They know they have to take things slow, for both of their sakes.

The tension between them is unbearable sometimes, but they take that slowly, too. Juno is very aware of how things ended the last time they had sex. He wants to be absolutely sure that Nureyev knows he can trust him before they do that again. Nureyev was so good to him that night, and now he wants more than anything to be good to Nureyev in return.

The right moment takes a long time to arrive, and when it does, it sneaks up on them. They’re sitting talking in Juno’s room one moment, and the next thing they know, Juno is sprawled back on the covers and Nureyev is kissing his neck.

Juno lets out a soft noise of pleasure, because there is nothing quite like the feeling of Nureyev’s lips, and it’s been so long since he’s been touched like this- this tenderly, and this reverently. Not since the hotel room, he thinks, then pushes the thought away. He doesn’t want the fragile, beautiful thing that’s blooming between them right now to be any more tainted by that night than it already has been.

By the way Nureyev’s smiling, Juno can only guess he feels the same. “What do you want, Juno?”

Juno knows what the question is: it is Nureyev making sure that this is okay, and that they’re not moving too quickly. God knows, right now Juno feels like they could never move quickly enough to still the swell of desire in his chest. “You. Goddammit, I want all of you.”

Nureyev’s smile widens, and Juno lurches up and kisses him. His hands fumble with the thief’s buttons and he all but wrenches his shirt over his head, desperate and hungry for the touch he’s been longing for for weeks- no, months. Maybe years. Maybe this is what he’s always needed, he just didn’t have a name for it before. He does now: the name is _Peter Nureyev,_ and it belongs to someone who is currently sitting half naked on the covers in front of him, his hair tousled and makeup smeared and skin glowing in the starlight filtering through the single round window in Juno’s room.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “I’ve been waiting so long for this.”

“What do you want, Juno?” Nureyev repeats, whispering it into his mouth like a prayer.

“I want you to take me. I want you to have me, all of me, all goddamn night.”

As soon as the words have left his mouth, he feels the moment break, like the snapping of a twig underfoot. Something in Nureyev’s face changes. He no longer looks enamored with Juno or exhilarated by the night ahead of them.

Instead he looks…uncertain. Nervous, even. He pulls back slightly and Juno feels all of his own desire drop to the bottom of his stomach and rot into dread and regret.

“Nureyev…?”

“Juno, I don’t know if I…” The man trails off, averting his eyes.

Right. Juno’s such an idiot. Of course he isn’t ready yet. How could Juno have jumped into this so aggressively? He’d thought it was what Nureyev wanted, but clearly he was wrong. Again. It hurts all the more how guilty and embarrassed Nureyev looks now, as though it’s his fault for not being ready and not Juno’s fault for rushing things.

Of course it’s Juno’s fault. It always is.

“It’s okay,” he says quickly. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so…forward. If you don’t want to do this, that’s fine.”

“It’s not that I don’t _want_ to, Juno, I just…” Nureyev shakes his head.

“It’s not the right time. Right. I understand. We can take as long as you need.”

“I don’t know that it’s a matter of…time.”

Juno’s heart somehow drops even further. _Ah._ It isn’t that Nureyev isn’t ready for this step in their relationship yet, it’s that he might never be ready for it. And who can blame him? What thinking, intelligent person would make the exact same mistake twice? The last time Nureyev allowed himself to be intimate with Juno, it didn’t end well. Why would he risk it again?

Juno knows that sex isn’t a necessary part of a relationship. Many people, like Jet, never have it and have no interest in having it. He also knows that he and Nureyev are not that kind of people. Of course he’ll keep loving Nureyev for as long as he lives, regardless of whether they ever have sex again. That won’t stop him from knowing that they both enjoy the act a lot, however, and that it is something missing from their relationship. That it’s something Juno apparently can’t give Nureyev, something he deserves to have without the fear of being left again.

 _It’s not that I don’t want to,_ Nureyev said. He’d admitted himself that he wanted it; he just couldn’t bring himself to go through with it. That’s how badly Juno had hurt him.

Juno swallows and takes his hand. “That’s fine.”

“Is it really?” Nureyev asks softly. “You’re not…upset?”

“Of course not.” He leans forward and kisses Nureyev on the cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

“You’re not the one who should be apologizing right now.”

Nureyev looks like he wants to argue this point, but decides not to. Instead he makes a noncommittal noise, changes into his pajamas, and lies down next to Juno on the bed. It’s more than Juno expected, after what happened. More than he deserves.

He slings an arm over Nureyev’s side and is relieved when the man sinks into his embrace contentedly. _We still have this,_ he reminds himself. _Even if I can’t touch him like that, I can touch him like this._ That alone is sacred.

Juno is careful in the weeks following. They hold each other often, and kiss even more frequently, but no further. It’s agonizing, some days, but much better than hurting Nureyev would be. Juno can never let himself do that ever again.

Nureyev doesn’t even really remember what they were arguing about.

It was something mundane, like who should be on grocery duty when they touched down that evening. Yes, that was it: Nureyev was insisting that Juno stay behind and rest, as he’d recently been injured on a heist, and Juno was insisting that he go because he needed to pull his weight. This morphed into a more general argument about Nureyev’s need to make all of Juno’s decisions for him and how Nureyev wouldn’t _have_ to do that if only Juno learned how to look after himself, and then-

“Juno, you’re being insufferable!” Nureyev says, and it comes out much more loudly than he’d intended it to, but he isn’t going to take it back. He leans closer to Juno, his height making him loom without even intending to. “Just _stay here and rest.”_

What Nureyev doesn’t think he can ever forget is the way that Juno flinches away from him then, and the genuine fear that flashes in the lady’s single eye.

Juno looks terrified. He looks like a scared animal expecting to be hit.

Nureyev immediately backs off. “I- I’m sorry, Juno. I didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

“Yeah,” Juno says, but his voice is weak. “Whatever.”

Then he gets up and slinks away, leaving Nureyev to stutter more apologies in his wake.

Nureyev collapses onto the couch once he’s gone, putting his head in his hands. He feels guilty, but also confused and frustrated. What did he do that was so awful? He may have shouted, been a little harsher than he should have been, but Juno’s shouted plenty of times himself. He’s getting better about it every day aboard the Carte Blanche, but it’s not as though he’s never said a harsh word he didn’t mean, either. Far from it. So why is he so bothered the moment Nureyev shows any anger?

…No, not bothered.

_Scared._

That’s what really gets to Nureyev. Anger he can deal with, but fear? That he can’t figure out. Why would Juno possibly be scared of him? How could he ever think Nureyev would hurt him?

All of a sudden, understanding hits him.

Nureyev finally learned a few weeks ago what it was that Juno saw inside his head: that he watched the worst moment of Nureyev’s life, watched him kill the man who’d called him a son in cold blood and walk away nameless. At the time, it had been almost a relief. It was a weight off, knowing that Juno had seen that and was somehow still able to love him, and didn’t see him any differently despite it.

Or so he’d thought.

Clearly Juno had been lying, either consciously or subconsciously, when he’d told Nureyev that he didn’t hate him for his baggage and didn’t think he was a monster. Juno was afraid of him. And why wouldn’t he be? Who wouldn’t been afraid of someone capable of stabbing their own family in the back?

Nureyev’s blood runs cold. Of course Juno is scared of him, and of course he can’t forgive him for killing Mag. This is the lady whose brother was killed by his own mother. Is a child killing a parent really so different from a parent killing a child? Can you ever truly forgive someone for familicide, when the very same act lost you your twin and permanently traumatized you?

It’d be silly to expect that.

The next time he and Juno see each other, Juno mumbles an apology. “Sorry,” he says. “Donno what got into me.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Nureyev assures him. “I understand.”

Juno looks grateful, and Nureyev feels that gratitude like a blaster wound. Juno is grateful to him as a creature being saved from the slaughter is grateful, he’s sure. He’s grateful because he knows what Peter Nureyev is capable of and is relieved to have been spared another day.

…No, that’s ridiculous. Juno wouldn’t think that about him, would he? If he did, he wouldn’t still look at him with so much love in his eyes. Nureyev takes a shaky breath, fighting to remind himself of reality, and of all the times Juno has shown him trust and love.

You can love someone and still be scared of them, though.

Juno Is frowning at him now. “What’s up, Nureyev?”

“Nothing is _up,_ dearest,” Nureyev says with a too-wide smile.

He knows that he could just ask. He could simply ask the question: _Are you scared of me because of what I did on Brahma? Can you really ever forgive me for killing a family member, when your mother did the same?_

Once again he bites his tongue, however. He’s too terrified of the answer.

Juno wakes up to an empty bed.

This isn’t unusual- in fact, it happens every morning.

He doesn’t always go to sleep to an empty bed, these days, but he always wakes up to one. He’s all right with that. Nureyev has always been an early riser. Juno’s pretty sure that anyone else being awake before him makes him nervous, as if it means he’s giving them opportunity to attack him in his sleep.

Juno’s been hoping that he’ll eventually feel safe enough aboard the Carte Blanche to sleep in, though. He thought this might finally be the day it happened. They’d had a busy day yesterday casing a building they were going to break into, and an even later night spent reviewing footage of the guard’s movement patterns.

When he and Nureyev had collapsed together into Juno’s bed it was past midnight and they were both thoroughly exhausted. Nureyev had burrowed himself into Juno’s side like a fox retreating into its den for warmth and fallen asleep instantly. Juno had thought- hoped- he’d finally get a full six hours.

Juno woke earlier than usual this morning too, roused from his slumber by a twinge in his bad shoulder when the artificial sun of the planet they were parked on had only just risen. He’d intended to adjust himself and go back to sleep, but then he noticed Nureyev was gone.

He can’t help but feel odd about that.

He isn’t angry, of course- what right does he have to be angry? How could he possibly be angry about waking up alone after what he did? Nonetheless, he can’t pretend he likes it. It makes him anxious, not knowing why it’s happening or what it means. Does Nureyev not like sleeping in the same bed as him? Is he doing something wrong? He hates that he doesn’t know.

When he gets to the kitchen, Nureyev is already there, fully dressed, eating a plate of toast- after several false starts, Juno finally managed to teach him how to use the toaster a few days ago- and reading something on his comms. It’s impossible to miss how tired the man looks. Even through his heavy concealer, Juno can see the shadows under his eyes. When he attempts to stifle a yawn, Juno notices that too.

Does he really prefer being this tired over staying in bed with Juno?

Juno tries to focus on fixing his own breakfast, but it’s difficult. A part of him wants to demand answers, but a bigger part holds him back, chastising him: _You have no right to be upset over something like this. Even if he is pissed at you, it’s only what you deserve. Shut up and take it._

He bites his lip so hard it nearly bleeds and does his best to act normally. Nureyev has enough on his plate without Juno questioning his every action.

Juno is acting oddly.

Nureyev is already worn out from having to go to bed so late and then get up so early, and now that he’s finally started to become a human again with the help of breakfast and caffeinated tea, all he can focus on is the fact that Juno is acting oddly. He keeps shooting glances at Nureyev, keeps opening his mouth and then closing it again as though thinking better of what he was going to say.

“Good morning, Juno,” Nureyev says pointedly.

“…Morning, Ransom,” Juno responds, and Nureyev knows enough from years reading the body language and vocal tones of marks- and months reading that of Juno Steel- to know there is something unspoken behind those words. The only problem is, he doesn’t know what.

Juno still takes the seat beside him to eat his own breakfast, which is a small comfort, though Nureyev can feel his eyes on him whenever he thinks Nureyev won’t notice.

“Did you…sleep okay?” Juno asks finally, once they’ve both finished eating and no longer have any excuse not to talk.

“Very well, thank you.” It isn’t a lie. For the few hours that Nureyev was asleep, he slept soundly. He’s usually cold at night, but never when he sleeps in Juno’s bed, with the lady’s body heat beside him.

“Mm. Good.”

“And you?”

“Shoulder woke me up, but otherwise, yeah.”

It’s the kind of mundane small talk Nureyev usually likes having with Juno, caught up in the joy that ‘small talk with Juno Steel’ is now something that he’s privy to, but today it feels different. Today it feels loaded, like there is some large creature in the room they’re both talking around, but neither of them even know what said creature is.

“Ugh, you are both so fucking annoying.”

Juno and Nureyev’s heads snap up to see Vespa fixing herself a cup of coffee. Despite Nureyev’s alertness built from years as a thief and Juno’s observational skills built from years as a detective, both of them were so distracted that they hadn’t even noticed her enter.

Nureyev frowns. “Whatever do you mean? We weren’t doing anything.”

“You two are supposed to be dating, right?” she says, raising her eyebrows at him.

“There’s no _supposed_ about it-”

“Then why are you so weird around each other!?” she spits. “The tension gives me fucking hives. You’re always so sickeningly...lovey-dovey, but it’s like there’s something else underneath it. Like you’re always secretly mad at each other, or something.”

“What?!” Juno exclaims. “Of course we’re not mad at each other!”

Nureyev appreciates how aggressively he insists it, but he doesn’t know that he’s as sure. He knows he isn’t angry with Juno, of course, but is Juno really not angry with him?

Memories from the past few weeks aboard the ship flash through his mind: the times Juno turned down dates, shied away when they were about to be intimate, or just acted strangely around him like he had this morning. Nureyev doesn’t know what to make of any of it.

Juno must notice the grimace on his face, because he pauses and says, “…Ransom, are you mad at me?”

“I don’t know, Juno. Are _you_ mad at _me?”_

Vespa rolls her eyes. “I’m leaving before I throw up. Don’t make me post Rita at the door and tell her she can’t let either of you out until you’ve finished talking.”

They don’t even notice her go; eyes locked on each other. They both open their mouths a couple of times, then close them again, unsure what to say. So much doubt and fear has built up in Nureyev’s chest over their time on the Carte Blanche that he doesn’t know where to start.

Juno seems to sense his discomfort and says, “Let’s start with…one question each. Then we can alternate. Okay?” Nureyev nods. “You go first.”

Nureyev takes a deep breath, and then suddenly the question that’s been at the forefront of his mind for the past few weeks comes tumbling out of him without his permission. “Why do you sometimes let Rita hang out with you but not me?”

Juno looks taken aback. “Oh.”

“…I’m sorry, if it’s too-”

“No, no. It’s okay.” The lady chews at his lip, and Nureyev can tell he’s struggling to articulate whatever he’s thinking. “I’ve known Rita a really long time. Over a decade. She’s my best friend, and she knows me better than anyone. She knows exactly what to do and say when I’m having one of my bad days.”

“And I don’t,” Nureyev says gloomily.

“Nureyev, you…you always need to _understand._ You want me to, I donno, explain what I’m feeling and why, and I just…can’t. Not always. Sometimes how I’m feeling is just how I’m feeling, and there’s no reason for it. I mean, except for the chemicals in my head being fucked up, or whatever,” Juno says. “That’s my question for you, then: why do you always need an explanation?”

The truth slips out against Nureyev’s will a second time. “Because I need to know it’s not my fault.”

Juno’s face softens. “Nureyev…”

“I – I know it’s not. Logically. I just…it’s hard for me not to take as, ah…a rejection. When you don’t want to do things with me, or don’t feel like talking. It makes me worry that I’m not good enough.” He cringes. “It’s embarrassing to admit. I don’t want to be that…sensitive. That pathetically insecure. I’m not that way with anyone else, you know. You ruin me, you fiend.”

Juno laughs lightly, but his eye is filled with gentle concern. “I promise you that it’s never about you. What I’m feeling on those days isn’t brought on by anything, and definitely not by you. It’s just…me, all right? It’s just me and my asshole brain.”

Nureyev nods shakily. “All right.”

“Do you really feel that way? Like you’re not good enough? At…what?”

“I don’t know. Being with you. Being a boyfriend. You’ve mentioned plenty of your own past relationships, but Juno, I…I’ve never had one before.” That, too, is embarrassing to admit: He’s pushing forty, and he’s never been in a long term relationship until now. It had seemed counter to his lifestyle in the past. Now he wishes he had taken the gamble and accepted at least a few of the offers by handsome men he’s been given in his life. At least then he’d have experience. At least then he’d have some shot at knowing what he was doing right now.

Juno looks at him, awed. “I’m your first partner…ever. That’s…wow. It’s an honor,” he says. “You don’t have to worry, though. You’re a wonderful boyfriend.”

“I’m not, though. I’m no good at comforting you, or talking with you, or having sex with you-”

“Wait, what?”

“It’s true. I’m trying to improve, but it’s like you said, Rita knows how to comfort you better than I do, so-”

“No. The last one. Nureyev, you don’t have to feel bad about not being comfortable having sex with me. I don’t need that from you.”

It’s Nureyev’s turn to blink at Juno in confusion. “Not being comfortable?”

Juno averts his eyes and nods. “When I tried to initiate, you made it clear that it wasn’t something you wanted, and I’m gonna respect that.”

“So…that’s why you keep pulling away.”

“…Well, yes.”

“Juno, why do you think I stopped things that night?”

“I don’t know, do I?!” Juno says, indignant. Then his tone softens. “But I can…guess. I know you say you’ve forgiven me for that night, but that doesn’t make it just go away. If I ruined things for you, then-”

“Juno, please be quiet.”

To his credit, the lady’s mouth immediately snaps shut.

“You just told me that I shouldn’t think it’s my fault when you’re feeling bad,” Nureyev says. “Well, now I’m saying the same to you. Everything isn’t always your fault, and this isn’t either.”

“Then…what is it?”

“Do you remember what you said to me, that time?” When Juno shakes his head, Nureyev continues. “You said you wanted me to have you all night.”

“Well, that was hyperbole-”

“I know it was, but even if it’s not all night, Juno…you deserve someone who can take care of you. Satisfy you.” Nureyev swallows, feeling a flood of embarrassment wash over him. He doesn’t want to talk about this. It’s the last thing in the galaxy that he wants to talk about. Juno deserves to know, though, and he can’t bear to let him think it’s his fault even one second longer. “I don’t have the…stamina that I used to have. I stopped you because I was afraid if we kept going, that I’d…well, that I’d let you down.”

“Nureyev…”

“Let me talk,” he says, because he knows if he doesn’t get it all out now, he never will. “I thought about you, about touching you, every day that we were apart. If I know anything about you, I can guess that you did the same.”

Juno rubs his neck and nods, looking adorably bashful.

“Back in that hotel room, it was different. We were both tired and banged up, but now…I was afraid you’d built it up in your mind, and then when we actually did it, it wouldn’t be… _I_ wouldn’t be as good as you imagined. I just wish you could have met me when I was younger. I used to be able to-”

Suddenly, Juno’s hand is on his. “Nureyev, I don’t need that from you. I don’t need you to be younger, or to have more stamina, or…anything like that. God knows, my joints crack like glowsticks every time I get up after sitting still for too long. It’s not like I can do all the things I used to do, either. It’s not about that. Every time I imagined touching or being touched by you, it was never some…hours long event. It didn’t matter what we did, in those fantasies. It mattered that it was _you.”_

Nureyev doesn’t even know how to respond to that. He doesn’t know how he came to deserve the wonderful lady in front of him, but he’s so glad that he has him. “Well. Now I just feel silly.”

Juno laughs. “So do I. I would’ve told you that weeks ago if I’d known that was the only reason. You’re really okay with it, then? Us…”

“Making love? More than okay, my dear. I’d be absolutely delighted to now that the air has been cleared.”

“Right. Right. Good. That’s, er, great,” Juno says, and Nureyev wants to kiss his shy smile right off his face. “Uh…whose turn was it to ask a question?”

“I don’t know. I have one, if you like. Why were you upset this morning?”

“I wasn’t _upset,”_ Juno says immediately.

Nureyev cocks a disbelieving eyebrow.

“I was just…You’re always up before me. I thought it was just because you’re on a different sleep schedule, but last night you went to sleep as late as I did, and you still got up before the crack of dawn. It made me worried that…I donno. That you don’t like being in bed with me.”

Nureyev taps a finger against his chin. He can’t pretend he isn’t aware that he does it, or that he doesn’t know why. He’s perfectly aware of why he always makes absolutely sure to be awake and out of the room before Juno. “I…didn’t want to tell you.”

“Well, I’m asking you to now. That’s _my_ question. I’d rather know,” Juno says, though Nureyev can tell how nervous he is by the way he’s fiddling with the string on his sweatshirt.

“I don’t want you to think I’m still angry with you about that night, or that I haven’t forgiven you. Neither are true. Nonetheless…there are some feelings I can’t control.” Nureyev takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to wake up alone again.”

“Nureyev, I-”

“No, don’t apologize. Don’t look at me like that. I…I trust you not to leave me a second time. It isn’t about that. I know that if I slept in later than you and you were gone when I woke up, you’d just be…in the kitchen, or the bathroom, or out for a walk. I _know_ that, logically. Some illogical part of me, though…I don’t believe would react well.” Nureyev chuckles wryly. “I haven’t spent all this time trying to help you improve your self-image only to make you watch me have a panic attack over an empty bed.”

Juno’s quiet for a moment, then says, “Nureyev, you don’t have to play down how much I hurt you to make me feel better. That’s the last thing I need from you. If I’m really going to move forward, I can’t just…not face the bad shit I’ve done. I have to learn how to face it without letting it send me spiraling. At least, that’s what Buddy says, and she’s usually right.”

“Mm. She is, indeed,” Nureyev says. “Nonetheless, I don’t like it. I don’t feel that it would be…an accurate representation of my feelings about what happened. I don’t want you to think that I don’t trust you or haven’t forgiven you. It’s just…an irrational fear.”

“What can I do to make it better?”

It’s such a simple question, and yet Nureyev can count on one hand the amount of times in his life that he’s been asked it. “I suppose…if you wake up before me and want to get up, could you…wake me and tell me? Or at least leave a note?”

Juno smiles. “Of course.”

“Thank you,” Nureyev says, squeezing his hand.

They sit there in silence for a moment before Juno says, “Fuck. Talking is hard.”

Nureyev chuckles. “You preach to the choir, my dear.” His eyes have been burning with tears threatening to spill over for the last ten minutes, and his whole body feels twitchy and poised to bolt at a moment’s notice. It’s been wonderful, receiving reassurance for his fears, but also uncomfortable and nerve-wracking to have to voice them in the first place. It’s scary to be so open, even with Juno. He’s not used to it, and he can tell Juno isn’t either.

“One more question?” Juno suggests.

He nods. “One more.”

“Your go.”

A question springs to Nureyev’s tongue immediately, but this time he manages to bite back the words before they escape. He can’t ask Juno something like that, not after he’s been so kind about everything else this morning. If Nureyev’s worries are unfounded, he’ll feel guilty for asking him at all. If they’re founded…well, he’ll feel guilty for a lot worse.

Juno squeezes his hand. “Whatever you’re thinking, say it out loud. Please.”

“Are you afraid of me?”

He regrets the question as soon as it leaves his mouth, but Juno just blinks. “Well. That’s easier than I expected. Of course not. Why would I be scared of you, Nureyev?”

“I…I am a criminal, you know.”

“So am I.”

“It’s different. You know it is. I’ve been a criminal my entire life, and I’ve done things that-”

“I’ve known that since I met you,” Juno points out. “The first time you kissed me, you did it to steal from me. That’s obviously not a dealbreaker for me. I know this isn’t about that, so what _is_ it about?”

Nureyev hesitates, but it’s too late to back out now. “You saw into my mind. You saw…what happened on Kinshasa. You watched me kill him.”

“…Yeah, I did.”

“And what? You’re not even a little scared of me after that? He…he was my father” – he nearly chokes on the word- “and I killed him.”

“I know.”

“There was another person in your life who killed their family member, Juno,” Nureyev says. Normally he’d never bring it up without Juno doing so first, but it feels necessary now. Necessary for Juno to understand. “From the things you say in your sleep, I know you’re still scared of her. Even now that she’s gone.”

Juno cringes. “Don’t. Don’t compare yourself to her. That man was going to kill thousands of people. You…you were a kid, and you were just doing what you thought you had to do. I wasn’t afraid of you when I saw that. I just felt sad, and…sorry. For you.”

“You’re really not scared at all?”

“Of course not. Why would you think I was scared?”

“You look scared, sometimes. When I raise my voice at all, or move too quickly. You look like you…think I might hurt you.”

“Oh.”

Juno doesn’t deny it, and Nureyev can hear his own heart pounding in his ears. There’s a long silence between them, and he has to fight to keep himself in his chair and not bolt from the room. Then:

“I know you would never hurt me,” Juno says quietly. “It’s just…instinct.”

The pain of self-pity in Nureyev’s chest is replaced in an instant with pain and rage on Juno’s behalf. “Because of…your…?”

Juno shakes his head. “Not her, actually. Not just her, at least. Like I said, I…don’t think of her when I’m with you at all. It’s just that some of my past partners…well, they haven’t been as gentle as you are.”

The rage grows tenfold. Nureyev had been jealous of Juno’s past relationships for giving him experience, but he’d never stopped to consider that relationships could sometimes leave other legacies. “Juno, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s all right. At the time, I guess I…thought I deserved it. I thought it was normal. It’s only recently that I’ve realized that it’s not really…something you should expect.” Juno laughs meekly. “God, saying it out loud makes it sound really fucked up. Guess that’s why it’s good to say shit out loud, though. Makes you realize how irrational it really is.”

“Thank you for telling me. I’ll be more careful.”

“It’s okay. It usually only freaks me out for a moment and then I get over it, but…thanks.”

“And if you’d like to give me a list of the names and home addresses of everyone you’ve ever dated…”

Juno laughs and elbows him. “I appreciate the sentiment, Nureyev, but I’d rather not have a string of deaths on my conscience.”

“You wouldn’t have to hear about it. I’d be very discreet-”

_“Nureyev.”_

“Very well.”

Juno reaches out and gently puts a hand on the back of Nureyev’s neck, pulling him down so their foreheads are pressed together. “Thank you, Nureyev. I know that telling me what you did today isn’t really something that’s easy for you.”

“What you told me wasn’t easy for you, either. None of this is easy, but…” Nureyev lets out his breath. “It helps. At least, it will. Right now I feel…” He trails off, unsure how to describe it.

“Like all your armor’s been ripped off and you’re totally exposed, and it’s terrifying?”

“Quite.”

“Same here.” Juno gives him a shaky smile. “It’ll feel better in the long run, though. Having this stuff out in the open. It’s…a weight off.”

That much is true. Nureyev hadn’t even realized just how heavy his fears and doubts had been until they vanished, and now it’s as though an anvil has been lifted from his chest.

“So,” Juno says. “If you can, I’d like you to promise me that if you ever think I might be mad at you or something’s wrong, you’ll talk to me instead of jumping to conclusions.”

“Only if you do the same.”

“I promise.”

“Then…absolutely, my dear.”

Nureyev leans forward and kisses him, reveling in the softness of the lady’s lips, and the way he kisses Nureyev back as though he is something that needs to be protected and treated with tenderness. He would hate to be thought of as breakable by anyone else, but when it’s Juno Steel, he doesn’t mind. The vulnerability feels less mortifying and more intimate.

He kisses Juno just as softly, a reminder that this is how he ought to be treated- not with the roughness of his previous partners. Nureyev’s touch is only ever meant to heal and comfort Juno, never to harm. He never wants Juno to associate love with pain again. He’s going to replace all those barbed memories with flower petals, replace every old bruise with a kiss.

“Ugh, gross. This means you guys finally talked shit out, though, right?”

They break apart, startled and embarrassed. Vespa has returned to the kitchen with a now empty mug and is eyeing them, unimpressed.

Nureyev clears his throat. “Yes, well, thank you for the…extra push, Vespa.”

“Yeah, Vespa. You were right,” Juno agrees, though he says it as though the words physically pain him.

She smirks. “Of course I was. And you’d best remember that, Steel.”

She sets down her mug in the sink and then marches out of the room, flicking Juno lightly on the temple as she passes him.

He groans. “She’s gonna hold that over my head for the rest of my life.”

“Probably,” Nureyev says.

Neither of them can bring themselves to be upset about that, though, and neither of them can keep from smiling. Admitting and talking about their worries is terrifying, but much less so than living in fear that the one they love resents them. Now that he knows that, Nureyev is determined not to make the same mistake again.

“I don’t want to think for the rest of the day,” he decides. “We’ve had quite enough of that.”

Juno snorts. “What do you suggest as an alternative, then?”

“I suggest we watch mindless streams in your room until our brains melt out of our ears. And afterwards, if the mood takes us…”

“…Yeah, I can get behind that. Let’s do it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Me writing Jupeter fic: *slaps the roof of Peter* this baby can hold so many insecurities 
> 
> Nureyev being insecure about sex wrt his waning stamina is a headcanon I've had for a while, so I'm glad I was finally able to fit it into a fic.
> 
> Anyway, leave a kudos and/or comment if you too are a fan of COMMUNICATION and TALKING THROUGH THINGS with your romantic partner
> 
> EDIT: I FORGOT TO MENTION I HAVE A TWITTER NOW. it's @prydonn, go follow if you want to see me yell about jupeter and writing fic about jupeter


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